What John Winchester Forgot
by carolinesayer
Summary: Sometimes, people forget how it felt when you first started something. Especially in hunting.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Supernatural, or Sam or Dean or anything... but if I did... *YEY***

**And the T is for language – and because I'm paranoid... I think most of my stories are rated T...**

**NO MEDICAL KNOWLEDGE... even with minor stuff like this? Man I'd better go clue up...**

**Review? Please? Christmas present for me? And it is nearly Christmas by the way!! Xx**

To John Winchester, returning from a hunt was followed by three things and three things only: shower, food and sleep. The shower would take two minutes, just enough time to get rid of the mud/dust and normally blood before he could start on the now lukewarm takeout pizza and climb into bed, exhausted before the next hunt would start. To John Winchester, this was a way of life. Researching a hunt, killing the supernatural being, showering, eating, sleeping. At first, the hunt had drained him and he would often return broken, emotionally and physically, but now he was used to it - hunting was an obsession, a motivation in his life and John forgot how it had ever affected him.

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The hunt had been a hard one and Dean knew that if Sam hadn't been there it could have ended very, very, differently. The spirit had been vicious, which wasn't surprising considering what the research had shown beforehand – in fact, the young girl was probably happier in death even if she had tried to kill them. Violent spirits were always a dangerous hunt but that's why Dean loved it, a bit of an adrenalin rush and he was saving people too. But he had to admit, they wouldn't have saved anyone if Sam hadn't been there tonight. The kid had finished off the spirit just in time as far as Dean was concerned and even John had admitted Sam had done a good job. But the kid hadn't talked since. Maybe Sam was just tired but Dean had a nagging suspicion it wasn't just that.

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The pizza was cold by now and John gave up waiting for his youngest. He wanted to eat and get some sleep but Sam had been in the shower for near twenty minutes now and Dean wasn't even in yet. He helped himself to a large slice and went over to the fairly messy table, pushing his journal aside to make room to eat.

"Sam, get out the shower now, food's going cold."

John had noticed his youngest hadn't said much since they'd finished the hunt and he'd noticed how Sam had stared into the black sky most of the drive back. Sam was torn up, wallowing in grief and John knew because he'd seen it in his son before but now he didn't even know why. Sam had killed the spirit, saved his brother and admittedly he'd saved him too but that didn't explain why he would be beating himself up over it. He sighed. Hopefully he would feel better in the morning.

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The hot water burned Sam's back as he sat in the bottom of the shower, trying to erase the image stuck behind his eyelids. He'd killed her. She'd definitely not deserved what happened in her life and it had been pretty inevitable she'd stay around once you thought it through. Revenge on her father and brothers... Sam wondered if she'd been terrified to see them there. Maybe they'd reminded her of her past anyway and that was why she was even more aggressive than the murder reports had suggested. And then Sam had finished her off, not by burning the bones but by luring her back to her bedroom, the room where her life had turned into her hell. He felt guilty as hell, sure, she wasn't the first spirit he had destroyed - but she was the first eight-year-old girl; and then the fact that Dean had nearly died in front of him and he'd nearly been too late, and what if that had happened! Sam knew that if Dean died he would either bring him back or quickly follow. He needed his big brother.

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The takeout was finished in silence. Sam avoided leaning back on his chair, he avoided eye contact in general and only finished his pizza because his Dad would be annoyed if he didn't. Tired and confused he took his plate through to the kitchen and left to the bedroom he shared with Dean in silence. He didn't want to hear about a 'good hunt' tonight.

John and Dean watched as the youngest of their family disappeared into the bedroom in silence. Dean especially was growing more concerned now but with neither of them sure what was wrong, both felt helpless.

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"Hey Sammy, talk to me kiddo." Ten minutes later and Dean slid onto the bed his brother was curled up in and rested his hand on the teenager's back. He felt his little brother flinch under his touch and wondered if Sam had been injured in the hunt. Well he was going to find out. His Dad had gone to bed, convinced that either Dean would get the truth out of Sam or he would tell them in the morning but Dean wasn't going to let it go.

"Come on Sammy, you're obviously not okay." Dean pulled the cover down from over his little brother's head and stopped in shock at the tears trailing down his little brother's cheeks.

**This was going to just be a oneshot – I like oneshots – but somehow seemed to turn into two. Never mind – please REVIEW!! I'll send you Sam and Dean! Well I won't because even if I had them I wouldn't let them go but still... you get the idea!**


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: Still don't own them. Duh, I wouldn't have time for fanfiction if they were in my living room!!**

"Sammy?" Dean immediately pulled his little brother up and forced him to look up. The tears were brimming in Sam's eyes but his little brother was clearly refusing to show weakness infront of Dean. He knew that Dean had often vanquished a spirit and would probably think he was being stupid, okay, Dean wouldn't think that - but Sam still didn't want to tell him.

"Sam talk to me man! You're my little brother, you can tell me whatever!" Sam always told Dean when something was wrong, it was kind of unbelievable that his little brother wasn't hanging on his arm, desperate to tell him everything. The youngest Winchester always wanted to care and share, it was Dean that hated the concept. But if his little brother wanted to talk, in this instance, Dean would definitely listen.

"She was eight, Dean! Eight. And I dragged her back to that room where those sickos…" Sam trailed off and looked away, the tears now running thick and fast down his cheeks. "And she nearly killed you, she could have killed you and Dad and then what would I do?"

Ah. Dean now knew the problem. Sam had never liked hunting, Sam hated it in fact. The whole idea of killing something, anything, was a complete sin in his little brother's eyes. Dean couldn't understand that, the things they hunted were evil and deserved to die but the second thing Sam had said, he could definitely understand.

They were hunters, and hunters had a lower life expectancy than other professions. Dean knew that, and he often felt sick knowing that each time his Dad went out on a hunt without him it could easily be the last time he saw him alive. He never worried about Sam. When the kid was eight years old himself, Dean had promised that nothing would ever happen to him. And that was not going to change. Sam would always be fine, protected - safe. And at the moment, Dean was still a teenager, he was invincible. Although he'd had more close shaves than every teenager he knew, Dean always escaped alive and as far as he was concerned that wasn't going to change. As long as Sam was around, Dean would be.

"They tortured her Dean, all her life. They tortured her. And I reminded her of that. The one thing she had escaped in death, and I dragged her back and rubbed her face right in it. She was terrified. I brought her back into that room and it tortured her again Dean. I pulled back all those memories before I _destroyed_ her." Sam looked away again, holding his hands up to his eyes in a weak attempt to hide the evidence that inside he was getting torn apart. It was all he had stood for through the hunts, he had never made the destruction of a soul more painful than it should be. Hell, he had never even ended a spirit. Spirits had past lives, past tragedies and Sam felt guilty for dragging all that back.

"Hey Sammy, hey." He pulled his brother close and hugged him gently. "She's gone now, in the next life or whatever, the happy place. You know what Pastor Jim always says."

"Yeah, whatever. You don't know that Dean. And even if that's true; what if you cross the rainbow." Sam was watching the ground again now, he couldn't look his brother in the eye.

"Sam. I'm not going anywhere. Dad's not going anywhere! You know that little brother." Sam looked away. Sure, he knew that his family were the best of the best but everyone could slip up and obviously tonight had proven even John and Dean Winchester could.

"I know. I know Dean. It doesn't matter." Sam pulled away and rolled over in bed, away from his brother's incredulous stares. Yes, Dean would look after him and never let anything happen to him, ever. He trusted his brother and father with his life and trusted they would look after themselves while on a hunt too. He just still worried about it, and knew he always would.

If one thing was certain, Sam was going to escape hunting. He wasn't going to live this life forever. He wasn't going to worry about this forever.

**Yey! I can't believe I actually wrote a fanfiction so quickly… please REVIEW!! Even if you didn't like, just 30 seconds of your time to tell me you hated it and I can then improve! xx**


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